Jennette Lee

“ Aunt Jane bent over the forget-me-nots, her smile full of gentle chuckles. "We'll make him a nice bunch," she said cheerfully. She selected a few meagre blossoms here and there.
"You're not getting the best ones!" The little woman was excited and eager. "They're better on this side. See—there's one—and there!" Her face had the soft, clear color of happiness.
Aunt Jane drew out the flowers with half-reluctant touch and arranged them slowly. "Seems 'most too bad to spoil your bunch," she said. ”

“ He stared at the heading on the paper: "My dear Julian." After all, what was there he could say to the boy? He could tell him he was in a hospital. But that might seem weak—as if he wanted sympathy—because he was down.... Herman Medfield never asked for sympathy; his heart was especially hard toward men who did. They were always the devils who were down and out—that asked for sympathy—and hoped to get some of his money to waste—as they had wasted their own. He would give hundreds to a man who stood up to him—when he would not give a dollar to the one that whined. ”

“ And I've been using other folks' happiness so long, I don't hardly know what to do with any of my own—happiness that belongs just to me!"
"It doesn't belong just to you!" said Dr. Carmon sternly. "You are the most self-centred woman I ever knew!" he added.
"Yes, I suppose I am!" sighed Aunt Jane. She rocked happily and looked at it.
"I'm going to teach you how to be happy!" said Frederic Carmon. "I can teach you! There are several things I can teach you, I suspect." ”

“ Edith Dalton smiled a faint smile.
Aunt Jane watched it and rocked.
"It's different when you've a good many," she said placidly. "You begin to see what they mean—just plain baby! Not because it's your baby, you know—but what they're like and what they mean."
"They don't mean much of anything, do they—except to cry?" The indifferent look held itself, but something had stirred in it.
"Yes, they cry!" Aunt Jane was silent.... "They cry, good and hard sometimes.... And that means something, too. Folks don't let 'em cry half enough, I think! ”

“ Roses on the table, a great bunch of carnations on the desk, violets on the stand at the head of Herman Medfield's bed, foxgloves and snapdragons filling the window-sill and spilling over into the room. It was a riot of color; and in the midst of it, propped on his pillows on the high white bed, the millionaire looked out with a scowl.
He wore an embroidered Chinese shoulder coat of blue and gold; and his hair, carefully combed, stood up a little on his forehead. The Vandyke beard was clipped to a point.
"You look pretty as a picture," said Aunt Jane cheerfully. ”

“ Pelton shook her head. "I don't feel as if I could ever be tired any more."
She was dressed in a long blue garment—one of Aunt Jane's wrappers—that enveloped her from head to foot. Her parted hair, smooth and shining, was combed close to her head and she looked very small in the big rocking-chair, but resolute and brave.
Aunt Jane regarded her mildly. "I reckon you'll get around to being tired, after a while—like the rest of us." She glanced at the bowl of forget-me-nots. "You enjoy your flowers, don't you!" ”

“ It was severe disapproval. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself!"
"I'm not!" He looked at them with satisfaction. He was whistling softly. "I didn't know you wanted flowers—or I'd have sent them before."
He had turned—his glance was on her face.
Something in the glance sent Aunt Jane hastily across the room. She straightened the furniture a little and came back to the desk and looked at the bunches of roses on either side, regarding them impartially.
"I hadn't ought to want flowers—goodness knows!" she said slowly. "I see enough of 'em, around every day, to make any one sick of them for life." ”

“ It was not Julian he was thinking of now—with the little smile that kept coming to his lips.
He was smiling at Aunt Jane and her crispness and her goodness and her little managing wilful ways that kept him straight.... He was like a small boy in the very thought of her. A man ought to feel that way toward his wife, he told himself—all men really feel like that! ”

“ Aunt Jane was looking thoughtfully before her. She was thinking of Suite A, perhaps. "It's a good, comfortable room and you get a little sun—along toward sunset." She glanced at the window, where the streak of sunshine was creeping in on the sill, and a little glow came from the sky. "It's a comfortable room—yes."
"The ward would be cheaper," said the woman. She hesitated. "It don't seem quite fair to him—the man that's paying, I mean—not to get along as cheap as we can."
"I wouldn't worry about getting along cheap," said Aunt Jane. "Some folks need one thing, and some another. ”

“ No one had loved her for twenty years!— Why should any one love—an old woman like her?... Why should she want to be loved? Her thought was full of gentle scorn for all old women that wanted to be loved—and for Aunt Jane!... ”

“ But to Aunt Jane's absent-minded gaze, it may be, there was nothing grotesque in the short, stout figure, eating its sandwiches.... [Pg 17] She had seen it too many times roused to fierce struggle, holding death at arm's length and fighting, inch by inch, for a life that was slipping away. To her Dr. Carmon was not so much a man, as a mighty gripping force that did things when you needed him. ”

“ A nurse came in from the waiting-room. "A man is here—a Mr. Dalton. He wants to know if he can see you?"
"Yes, I'll see him," said Aunt Jane.
"He said he could come again if you are too busy." The nurse waited.
"No, I'm not busy—no busier than I always [Pg 198] am, I guess. You tell him to come in."
He came in with quick step and a little light in his face—as if a glint of sun shone on a dark field.
Aunt Jane looked at him approvingly. "You're doing first-rate!"
He laughed. "I don't have to try. Luck is coming my way now!"
"Folks generally have to go fully half-way to meet it," said Aunt Jane. ”

“ The doctor was watching the face.
Medfield shook his head resolutely. "I don't feel like eating."
"Very well." Dr. Carmon sat back and looked at him. "I think you'd better go to bed—and stay there for a while."
"You think I got up too soon?" Medfield's voice was patient and full of acquiescence; it was very meek.
"I don't think anything," said Dr. Carmon gruffly. "But when a man can't eat, he'd better be in bed.... There's nothing the matter with you." ”

“ As for the woman, she lay with indifferent eyes looking at the white wall of her room and waiting recovery. The only time that the look in the eyes changed was when Aunt Jane appeared in the doorway for a moment, or sat by her bed. Then it would deepen to a question and flicker toward hope.
"Doing well?" Aunt Jane would say. "They give you good things to eat, don't they?"
The woman smiled faintly. "Yes."
"That's right. Eat and sleep. And hope don't hurt—a little of it."
"Aunt Jane?" The voice had a sharp note. The invalid was resting against the pillows that had been raised on the bed. ”

“ Even Dr. Carmon himself never brought a patient to the House of Mercy without asking humble and solicitous permission of Aunt Jane. It was not known that she had ever refused him, pointblank. But she sometimes protested with a shrewd twinkle in her eye: "Oh, I can't have that Miss Enderby here. She's always wanting to have her own way about things!" Then Dr. Carmon would laugh and bring the patient. ”

“ She had been a little surprised to find that it was difficult to meet his gaze.... He was almost [Pg 286] like a stranger—dressed in the gray business suit and looking down on her with keen, clear eyes.... She had forgotten that Herman Medfield was tall. As she had remembered him, that first day when she went into the waiting-room with his card in her hand, he had not been so tall. She seemed to remember that she had looked down on him and had put him in his place—easily.... Perhaps his thinness made him seem taller—or was it the little triumphing twinkle that had crept into his eyes. ”

“ She motioned to the flowers. "I don't know as I ever see anybody have more flowers the first week."
"Flowers don't care—the people those came from don't care!"
The tone was scornful, almost bitter.
"Don't they!" She beamed on the flowers. "Somehow I can't ever believe flowers don't mean what they look," she said thoughtfully.
"These don't!" His little cynical smile rested on them. "Those roses there—They must have cost ten dollars at least——"
"I never saw bigger ones," assented Aunt Jane. ”

“ The minute a man hears my name, he doesn't think of me—he's thinking what he can get out of me." His mouth set itself close. "I'm not a man—I'm money!"
Aunt Jane's look was full of twinkling sympathy that went out to him. "It's a pity you didn't think about that sooner, wasn't it?"
He stared.
"You might 'a' give away most of it—if you'd thought in time."
The stare broke. "You think it is easy, don't you?" he scoffed.
Her face grew sober. "No, I don't think it's easy.... Money seems to stick to folks' fingers—kind o' glues 'em together, I guess." ”

“ Aunt Jane sighed. "It doesn't seem right for one person to have everything."
"He'll have to have things—for a while," replied Dr. Carmon. "He'll have to have what he wants—till I find out what's wrong with him.... He wants Miss Canfield—and I can't take the risk of having him upset!" He spoke a little brusquely at the end.
Aunt Jane's feathers ruffled themselves. "I don't know what call he has to expect to have any particular nurse!" she said. "We shall take good care of him, whatever nurse he has!"
"Yes—yes—of course." Dr. Carmon was testy and placating. ”

“ It had been several days since Julian came; but Herman Medfield was not yet used to his being there, or to the little proud feeling that came over him as he looked at this young man who was his son. He had never thought Julian was handsome. But something seemed to have happened to him.... He carried himself more like a man; and there was a look behind the lines of his face.... ”

“ Aunt Jane's response was veiled. But the good-will in her face shone through. "I'll tell you anything I can. There's a good many things I don't know." Her cap was whimsical.
"You know this!" He laughed. "It's about your old hospital!" He motioned toward the little bag with its check.
"Oh—I know the hospital— It's 'most all I do know!"
"You feel as if you owned it, don't you!" His tone teased her gently. Then he left it—and leaned forward——
"What I was thinking was this: Isn't there something that you would like for the hospital—not just contagion—not a whole [Pg 309] wingful!" ”

“ She was silent a minute. Then she looked at him and smiled. "Europe isn't so very far off," she said.
She gathered up the flowers in her lap, and glanced toward the door.
Herman Medfield's dinner was being brought in.
Miss Canfield carried the big tray in both hands. Aunt Jane glanced at it and got up.
"I guess I'll give your flowers to Mrs. Pelton," she said slowly. "She doesn't happen to have any flowers. Nobody's sent her any—yet. She'll be real pleased with 'em."
She cast another glance at the tray. "They've brought you a good dinner to-day—beefsteak and onions and green peas." ”

“ Aunt Jane stared. Her countenance was subdued. "Well—I don't know as I should call him old!"... She considered it. "I don't believe he's a day over fifty!" she concluded.
"I don't believe he is," assented Miss Canfield. "I should say that's just about what he is—fifty." She gathered up the towels.
Aunt Jane's face was a study. It opened out in little lines of protest—and closed slowly. "Fifty isn't so very old!" she finished mildly.
"Of course not. And he's an active man—for his years." Miss Canfield carried the pile of linen to the cupboard and stowed it away and came back. ”

“ He looked at her and smiled.
"You look pretty big and strong," assented Aunt Jane.
He laughed out. "I'm big enough this way!" He reached out his arms from the broad shoulders and clinched the hands a little. "I can tackle anything in sight. But—" he leaned forward—"it's the things that are out of sight that I can't seem to come to grips with."
"That's what bothers most folks, I guess—men folks special," said Aunt Jane. "I've known a good many men, and I like them.... ”

“ Herman Medfield's tone was guilty and a little apprehensive.
Aunt Jane smiled. "Yes, I reckon I see it just about the way it is—now.... You don't want to get well—not yet."
"No." He admitted it feebly.
"And you don't want we should take Miss Canfield off your case."
He said nothing.
"Well, we're not going to take her off."
His face brightened a little.
Aunt Jane laughed softly. "That's right! You can chirk up—all you want to!... You do need a good wife—much as anybody ever I see." ”

“ Aunt Jane's face made no comment. She rocked a minute. "I reckon women always wants children.... Every woman wants 'em—even when she doesn't know.... She wants 'em—way in back somewhere; she kind o' misses 'em." ”